It is the map.
Hermione thinks that she might be mistaken for half a second as she flips the cover, 'Ministry of Magic Ground Updates 1875 - 1975', open, a wave of intense anticipation thrumming through her body all the way to her fingertips.
But it is the map.
She knows this, for uttermost certain as she haphazardly flicks through the pages until she reaches one of the middle pages. Spread across two pages is a map. An excerpt of a map, to be precise.
It almost perfectly matches the area they've been looking in for the Mosp killings, and this becomes incredibly apparent as she places them both on the table right next to each other.
"You found it," he says, his voice filled with only what Hermione can describe as intense anticipation, wonderment, and the simple fact he is exhibiting unhindered, uncontrolled emotion speaks enough of how intense this find is, that she almost finds herself breathless.
He's standing on the other side of the table once more, his hands braced against the flat of the table as he looks over the map. His left blonde eyebrow is furrowed slightly, his lips ever so slightly bruised from their- well whatever they'd just done, and she briefly wonders if her lips are just as bruised, Merlin knows her hips are throbbing just this side of tender. Malfoy meets her gaze then, and she's pulled roughly back to reality.
"What is it from?" he asks, nudging the book closer to her.
Hermione takes a stifled breath, cheeks heated and then plucks the book up. She barely remembers, truly, having first read this one way back around the time Ron had cheated on her, and a whole chunk of that time is fuzzy, a haze . An inkling is there, though, a nudging in her brain, and she quickly skims the information nestled in the book's pages.
Realisation springs across her mind and she's gasping, unable to stop herself.
"Granger?" Malfoy's voice responds, and he's leaning further across the table, now. She supposes her face must be entirely stricken, and well- she feels rather stricken because-
"I can't believe I didn't see this before," she says, her jaw tight, and really, she's entirely frustrated at herself because if she'd only remembered it would have been so obvious -
" Granger ," he says again, voice now clipped. A warning, to get to the point most likely.
Her eyes catch his again and his expression is carefully controlled once more, jaw set.
"The excerpt here-" she flattens the book onto the table again, pointing at it, tracing the area, "it's part of a series of plans the Ministry made in 1904 for more entrances that led to the main atrium."
Hermione pauses a moment, allowing Malfoy to take in and mull over the information, and then she continues.
"And these markings-" she once again points on the map excerpt to several entirely familiar, red dots, "these are where the entrances were planned for, and well- they did end up putting most of them in place by the October of 1908," as she explains this, she flips a few pages ahead in the green book.
"But they were decommissioned, shut down , closed off by 1950, and from then on only the main and visitor entrances were used."
She takes a deep breath, but it feels as if her lungs are straining, as if no amount of oxygen she inhales could fill them.
"So you're saying that all of these deaths occurred exactly where-"
"Where old ministry entrances used to be," she finishes, but a thought strikes her and she adds, "and might still be- it doesn't exactly explain how the old entrances were decommissioned, there's a possibility those entrances might still be functional-"
She trails off as she looks between the two maps, biting her lip in the process.
"Where was the newest kill found?" she asks, and she thinks she knows, most definitely knows where, but she has to be sure -
"Here," Malfoy replies, tapping the map excerpt with his forefinger. Right over a particularly large, red dot.
"Malfoy," she says, slowly, carefully. As controlled as she can presently muster, "That was an entrance, too. But it was an entrance specifically used by Unspeakables and Researchers of experimental magics-"
Hermione takes a stuttered breath, a pause, and Malfoy is looking at her, a grim frown etched into his features.
"I think- I think whoever this killer is, this Death Eater is, they're trying to get into the ministry," she says into the crisp, cold silence settling inside the archives, "possibly using those poor employees to get in, perhaps they knew something about how to get in-"
"You're brilliant Granger," he says suddenly and she's glancing sharply at his face, their eyes meeting, brown on grey.
She's thrown off. Doesn't think that Malfoy has ever truly complimented her before, praised her, nor did she ever think he would, that he even could . And yet here she is, and her face is growing immensely hot. Can't help but feel that it's another step over that line, except now they're both entirely on one side of it. Isn't entirely sure what they're moving towards, but feels giddy with the notion regardless. It feels like they're stepping towards something, at least.
It's only been half a moment, half a second even, but it feels like they've been looking at each other for hours. She thinks, perhaps, that he's going to kiss her again.
Then Malfoy is breaking their eye contact, his body, his hands moving to grab his robes, his satchel. The movement slices through whatever tension had been thick in the air, dissipating it into nothingness.
"Where are yo-"
"Absolutely brilliant," he says, and it makes the flush in her face increase ever so, she's resolutely sure the red tinge is reaching her hairline now, "I'm going to get clearance from Humphries-"
"Wha-" she barely manages to get out, but Malfoy is pulling papers into his satchel, and she's suddenly struck with the realisation that she has done this before, rushed off like this before. Thinks a half thought that perhaps she and Malfoy aren't so different-
"You've given me an idea," he clips, quickly, sharply, and he sounds entirely focused, so very capable in this moment. Hermione finds that although she has no idea what Malfoy is doing, what he's going to do, she trusts that he's going to push them even further forward in the case. Trusts that she doesn't have to be there through every step to ensure he doesn't mess up.
She trusts him.
There's a knock at the door.
Hermione glances up at her office door, and then towards the clock on the left wall, wondering if perhaps she has gotten too engrossed in her work again and is late for a meeting-
But she's not. She doesn't have any meetings this morning, she notes.
The knocking sounds again, light and barely there, as if the person on the other side is unsure of themselves.
Not Malfoy, then, she thinks. Finds herself half smiling at the thought, and then she realises that she's just been smiling at the thought of Malfoy, and she firmly shakes her head, setting her lips into a thin line.
"Come in," she finds herself calling, moving to take a sip of her coffee.
It's definitely not Malfoy, she finds as a shock of perfectly styled mousy brown hair appears in her vision from behind the opening door.
"Good morning, Hermione," and Glenn's voice is entirely pleasant, warming .
Her coffee is cold, and she frowns down at her cup. She's been so engrossed in reading Harry's case reports that she's forgotten her coffee again -
"Is everything alright?" Glenn asks as he steps further into her office.
"Oh, yes, terribly sorry," She replies, giving him a small apologetic smile, "I was just deep in thought- I hope you're having a pleasant morning?"
Glenn nods exuberantly, "oh yes, I completed the PigmyPuff assignment this morning, so I find myself having lunch and my afternoon entirely free."
Hermione thinks that sounds rather good, a twinge of jealousy in her stomach. She hasn't eaten today, not properly, at least. ' Coffee doesn't count' , Ginny had once said.
"Sounds lovely," she replies, dropping her half finished, cold coffee into the bin under her desk, "what do you plan to do with the rest of your day, then?"
Glenn's brown eyes crinkle at the edges, glasses glinting in the light, and he moves further into her office. He slinks across the room, taking a seat across from her at the desk. He eyes the piles of case files and parchment on her desk and a hint of a frown appears on his face, then.
"Is this all for that Auror case?" he asks, eyes sweeping over the stacks of open files in front of her.
Usually, Hermione is unapologetic in her haphazard assortment when working on a case, but she feels a light blush working its way onto her cheeks at the look Glenn is giving the paper in front of her. Scrutinising how awfully messy it is, no doubt.
"Uh, yes," she comments, pulling the files closed and neatly stacking them off to the side, "it's had me quite busy recently."
Glenn nods, as if in agreement, his eyes on her face now, and he smiles warmly.
"Indeed," he replies, and she notes a flush slowly rising over his own face, "well, I thought that since you've been working so hard on this case, that you uh- deserve a break, and since I have lunch free, I was wondering if-"
There's another knock at her door.
This time it is sharp, punctual, and entirely self assured, a sound she's now quite familiar with.
And so as Malfoy opens her door and pops his head in, face entirely unreadable as usual, she's not at all surprised. In fact, she finds her pulse stuttering slightly and she tries desperately to tamp it down.
"Granger, I spoke with Humphries and-" his voice cuts off abruptly as he spots Glenn sitting in the chair opposite her, grey eyes flickering over him and then back to her once more.
"Mr Malfoy," she replies, keeping her voice light in front of company, "I'm just having a chat with Glenn, if you could wait a moment outside we won't be long."
Malfoy doesn't look at all affronted by her dismissal, but his eyes, dark as they are inside her office, briefly linger between herself and Glenn, who is giving him an apologetic smile over the back of the office chair.
Malfoy's broad torso disappears once more behind her door, and it clicks shut sharply.
Glenn swivels back around in the chair opposite her, still looking entirely apologetic.
"I can leave," he says quickly, "if Mr Malfoy is here on urgent business-"
Hermione waves her hand in the air over her desk dismissively.
"No, no, it's fine Glenn," she responds, giving him a half smile, "what was it that you were saying? About lunch?"
The sweeping of a blush is back on his cheeks once more, and Hermione thinks he half looks adorable, it reminds her briefly of Harry whenever he was around Ginny before they'd left Hogwarts. Feels friendly, familiar. Comfortable, even.
"I was asking if you'd like to have lunch with me," he replies, and then quickly adds, "I know you usually have lunch with Mr Potter, and well- he's away currently, and you've seemed awfully stressed with this case, but if you don't want to, it's fine, I'll-"
"Oh, it's absolutely fine, Glenn," she replies reassuringly, "lunch sounds great."
Perhaps she'll finally make a friend in her department after all, she thinks. Because she's always been pressed to find that she hasn't made friends, not in her department, at least.
Glenn beams, his smile wide, and he stands then, turning back to her briefly on his way out.
"I'm glad, Hermione," he replies, voice chirpy with just the barest hint of sheepishness, "I'm- looking forward to it."
He leaves then, slipping through her office door, it shuts with another click. Her eyes linger down to the piles of Harry's files, and she reaches for the top file again, pulling it back in front of her.
Her door slides open again, no knock this time, but she knows it's Malfoy, of course it is. No one else would have the audacity to come in without asking-
"Granger," he says, his tone clipped.
Her brown eyes slide to where he's stood in the doorway, his broad frame taking up most of the space in the open space of the frame. Malfoy steps in soundlessly, swiftly, with carefully practiced intent.
"Malfoy," she replies, taking a slow, deep breath,"how may I help you?"
There's a beat of silence then, and he let's the door shut sharply, loudly, behind him.
"What was that about?" he asks, ignoring her question entirely, his expression unreadable. He moves languidly towards the chair opposite her, but doesn't sit.
He's wearing a dark, pressed black suit today, with a dark green tie, and Hermione thinks it rather suits him, more than some of his others, at least.
"What was what about?" she asks, looking back to the case file in her hands. She flips it back open, trying to find the place she had left off.
"I don't know how many times I'll have to say it," he says, sharply, "but playing ignorant is not becoming of you, Granger."
She bristles under his words, his tone. How dare he-
"What on earth do you mean?" she asks, voice an octave higher than before, stilted, "are you honestly that affronted because I asked you to wait outside? If so that is absolutely-"
"That is not at all what I mean," Malfoy retorts, his hands gripping the edge of the chair, "I meant with him-"
"You mean my coworker," she quips, her eyes narrowing on the blonde across from her, "yes, how utterly despicable of me to make you wait outside whilst I spoke to Mr Alden, my coworker-"
"You called him Glenn a moment ago," and there is some kind of strain to Malfoy's voice, which only serves to irk Hermione more.
She scoffs, loudly, unceremoniously.
"Yes, because he also happens to be a friend-"
"Does he know that, though?" Malfoy counters sharply, and she's suddenly taken aback, speechless, "or are you honestly trying to tell me you can't see he has an ulterior motive for inviting you to lunch?"
Her hands grip at the file she's holding, feels a spring of anger at his tone, at his insinuation that Glenn could have some ulterior motive, that she's oblivious. It's then that she realises she hasn't mentioned him asking her to lunch which means-
"You were listening to my conversation with him?" she practically hisses, incredulous. Curses herself for not using silencing charms more often.
Malfoy's jaw ticks, but the rest of his expression is unmoving, unwavering.
"First of all," she sniffs, anger bleeding into her voice, "how dare you listen into my private conversation, and second, I don't know what bloody sordid world you're living in Malfoy, but two people of the opposite sex going to lunch together does not automatically mean something untoward is happening!"
She's sure her hands are going to leave terrible creases in Harry's case files with how hard she's gripping them, and so she drops them onto the desk, instead choosing to stand.
"Actually, myself and Harry regularly go to lunch together, and we're as stupidly platonic as it gets," Hermione continues, her curled hair bobbing as she moves to collect more files from across the desk, "and really I have no idea why you're set on insinuating that something is going on, unless-"
Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she's rather rudely overrun by memories of when she, Harry and Ron had been hunting for horcruxes, and of Ron's utterly unwarranted jealousy of Harry-
She stops in her ministrations, her brown eyes shooting to Malfoy's face, which is still entirely, irritatingly placid, but she spots his jaw ticking again, and she knows he's holding something back.
"Malfoy," she says, slowly, carefully, "are you- are you jealous?"
The words are out of her mouth before she can stop them, and she watches as he blinks. Once. Twice. And he is moving around the chair abruptly on the third, his carefully controlled expression now filled with something she'd akin to seething.
"Not at all, Granger," he replies sharply, and she rather thinks he's lying, "I just want to ensure you're going to focus on the case."
Hermione almost laughs at the incredibly bad excuse he's using, at the hypocrisy of his words. Because he's distracted her from the case several times so far, in ways she definitely thinks are entirely salacious-
And really, she wants to respond, to gripe at him, pick apart his rather obvious façade until he tells her the truth, but she's also content to play the subtle game.
"Of course, Malfoy," she replies, courteously, "but if you do ever find yourself wanting to have lunch with me-" she pauses, thinks for a split second this may just be a terribly stupid idea, "well- you can always just ask."
His jaw ticks once more, and Hermione let's him stew in the information for a few moments whilst she rearranges the stacks of paperwork in front of her.
"So, what was it that Humphries said?" she asks, rejoining his earlier statement.
Malfoy pauses for a split second, then carefully pulls a memo out of his shirt pocket, depositing it on her desk between them.
"Humphries has given me clearance to look into both the victims' backgrounds at the ministry, what they did throughout their entire careers, even if they were unspeakables, and to investigate those decommissioned entrances."
Hermione takes a beat to process the information, and then she beams at him before she can stop herself.
"Absolutely brilliant," she comments, and feels a flush immediately slink over her cheeks at having used the same line he'd used to praise her back.
Malfoy nods, and even as his usual mask is in place, she sees the briefest tugging of his lips at the left corner. He's trying not to smirk, she thinks.
"We've got our next step, then" he replies.
It feels much too like a double entendre for Hermione's liking.
"How's the holiday?" Hermione asks, and she can see Ginny's face light up even through the coal of the floo.
"Bloody loving it," she replies, her smile growing, "Harry's even been able to relax a bit, although he's said he wants to chat with you about the case in a bit."
Hermione rolls her eyes, "of course he does," she says mirthfully, laughing along with her redheaded friend, "but I'm so glad you're having fun."
She feels a twinge in her chest, and she knows she misses her two best friends, entirely, completely.
"'Mione," Ginny says, breaking Hermione from her reverie, "I know that I didn't get to tell you before, what with everything being so rushed and the holiday and everything, and I guess this isn't the best way to be telling my best friend, but-"
It feels as if she's stopped breathing as she waits for Ginny to continue, her hands gripping the edge of her t-shirt tightly.
"Well- I'm pregnant," the redhead finally replies, and Hermione swears her eyes practically twinkle even through the fire.
"I knew it!" Hermione declares, leaning forward excitedly, "Merlin, Gin, I'm so happy for you!"
They're both beaming at each other, then, a rush of excitement and talk of the baby, of how Ginny hasn't found out the gender yet but she will next week when they're back for the next Ministry fundraiser- another small art auction, apparently, and Hermione's chest feels entirely full of love and elation for her friends.
Harry joins Ginny on the other side of the floo, and he looks just as chuffed as his wife. Hermione feels another pang of elation for them both, knowing just how eager Harry was to have his own family.
"Are you and Malfoy getting along over there?" Harry asks after a while of discussing tidbits about the case, and Hermione is entirely glad that a blush can't be seen through the ashes of a floo call as she remembers back to earlier in the evening, when she and Malfoy had been working through Harry's case notes.
He'd dropped a packet of apple tarts between them, and she'd looked at him questioningly.
'Another peace offering,' he'd said quickly and Hermione wondered if that was as much of an apology from him as she was going to get.
And when she'd asked why he'd brought apple tarts and not just apples, he'd responded simply,
'Because you prefer them baked.'
Yes, she's entirely thankful one can't see a blush through the floo.
AN: Thank you for all the folllows, faves and reviews, they really do spur me on!